The Night Of

Let’s talk about The Night Of, HBO’s moody miniseries from 2016. It’s based on a British show (Criminal Justice), but the New York setting gives it a grit and bleakness I haven’t felt in a crime drama in years. The premise: a shy young man (Riz Ahmed) wakes up in bed next to a dead woman and gets swept into the criminal justice system. Sounds straightforward, but it’s way messier and more hypnotic than your standard whodunnit.

Right away, the show’s pace is glacial. In a good way. I never felt rushed, but I did feel constantly unsettled. Each scene lingers just a little too long, dragging out the awkward silences in police interrogation rooms and dingy holding cells. There isn’t a single car chase or shootout. Instead, the tension comes from things like paperwork and guard slumps. It’s procedural, but feels almost existential.

What hooked me most was the acting. Riz Ahmed is all twitchy uncertainty, and John Turturro as his eczema-ridden lawyer is the definition of “guys who peaked on Law & Order, but now have to hustle for clients.” The supporting cast—Michael K. Williams especially—brings lived-in weariness to every frame. Even minor characters, like jaded corrections officers, feel like people you’ve met and instantly wanted to avoid.

Visually, it’s not showy, but the color palette is all yellowed lights and grime-smudged glass. There are long, wordless stretches where you feel the characters’ anxiety strangling the room. The cinematography adds weight to the suffocation, like when you realize how tiny and claustrophobic a police precinct actually feels.

As much as I love slow burns, a couple of episodes in the middle feel a little padded, like the writers weren’t sure if they should pull the trigger on certain plot points yet. The actual mystery is a bit of a red herring, too—don’t expect some earth-shattering twist. It’s much more about the process and the collateral wreckage done to real people. If you want closure, this might leave you gnawing at your cuticles.

When it’s at its best, The Night Of is less about “Who did it?” and more about “Who gets crushed by the system?” It has moments that hit like a sledgehammer (the finale stays with you), but it’s the slow, spiraling descent into despair that makes it great. It’s not flawless, but it’s riveting and honestly kind of exhausting—in a way that works.